Little Talks
by ClassyMuse
Summary: Set between "First Born" and "Sharp Teeth": Sam and Dean have split up and Dean is forced to take shelter during the polar vortex. Where and with whom are up to chance. He only hopes that nothing much has changed in seven years. Sequel-ish to "The Ridges" but can easily be read as stand-alone.
1. Athens

Dean drove. What would normally take him a few hours to cross a few states he had slowed down to take most of the day. He didn't want to stop. He and Sam had parted ways and he needed time to think on what his brother, a person who he thought would have been grateful for the choices Dean made and forgiven him if he didn't like it, said about his selfish decision to let an angel in. There were times he mentally agreed with Sam, that he should have let him die if that was what he wanted, but Dean didn't want to admit that his little brother was right and that he should have died.

He ran through all his memories of the last ten or so years, all the conversations they had about family, sacrifice, he tried to see what his brother meant. He couldn't. All he saw was death, like a punctuation mark, at the end of each thought. It may have started when his mother was killed, but it really began when his dad gave himself over to save his older son. In the last ten years he had seen more death than what he wanted. He had seen so much more than he wanted and did more than he should.

Dean lost so much and didn't gain a damn thing. Losing Sam, game over.

He was on the edge of northern Columbus when he could feel the cold outside of the car. The Impala sounded hollow as it breezed around the city on the interstate loop. By the time he hit the east side was when the snow started to fall. It wasn't much but Dean didn't mess with winter conditions. He began to actually pay attention to the road instead of his own thoughts.

It had been a few years since he had gone down this path, even more before that, but it felt like yesterday since he had gone off the exit for Thirty Three East. The first time it was with his dad that was where he met Cassie. The second time it was with Sam to do a favor for a fellow hunter. This was the third time and he was going alone without a case to reason. He was going to pass through, just like he had been all day.

By the time he entered Fairfield county the snow picked up and the roads had fewer cars on them. more state patrollers than anything. Through Hocking County, where the hills got bigger, the visibility started to turn to shit. It had to get better the farther south you went, he figured. So he kept on driving.

In Athens county it was next to pure white. He was caught off guard by the bypass that was barely under construction when he last passed through and went around a town called Nelsonville. The next stop was Athens where he knew of a motel for sure. At the rate it was snowing he would have to stop and hole up there.

There was another option, but it had been years, and that hunter had to be long gone by now. That was how her family worked, which made them weird, but it worked. Once he found the exit he pulled off, just barely recovering from what would have been a nose-dive into a ditch, and coasted down the road to The Sunset Motel. That place never changed, he smiled at the thought. The sign was proof, at least what he could see of it.

The amount of cars in the parking lot didn't deter him, but just as he pulled in the red No-Vacancy sign lit up red. Dammit. Dean had to think on his feet. It was getting colder and he had to park the Impala somewhere and prep it for whatever this snowstorm had to offer. He only had one other place in mind, but the chances of the person who would allow him into their home still living there was slim. He didn't have her number anymore and he hadn't heard a word from her brother, the rest of the family for that matter, in years. The family settled, hunted the place down for months if not years, protecting whatever town they were living in, building supernatural barriers of all kinds, all the things that the hunting world found not efficient. The Carlson family made it work, that was for sure. They were the only family of hunters that lived to see four generations. Hell, by now there had to be a fifth.

Dean pushed the Impala's limits going up hilly streets and making sharp turns until he reached his target block. All the lights were out, even the restaurant next to what used to be a depot was shutdown. Dean pulled up to the house on the corner. Not much had changed on the outside, but that didn't matter in the grand scheme of things. Dean got out of his car and hurried to the porch. He tried to get a glimpse of the inside but the curtains were pulled. It did look dark in there, though. He wasn't going to bother looking for a car in this white-out. Dean knocked a few times hoping someone would answer and answer quickly. After the fourth try a light was turned on and the door cracked open.

The woman at the door had changed a lot since he was last there. Gone was the short-haired hipster and now he was looking at an older, long haired lady in green Ohio U sweats with a surprise in her eyes behind her black-rimmed glasses. "Dean?" she asked.

"Hey Erin."


	2. There is Time

Erin never could forget a Winchester. Where they were trouble usually followed, even if they were sent. The last time any of them were in Athens was because they were doing a favor for her brother who was living in Michigan at the time. She would never admit but she was glad her brother, Austin, had sent them down to check on her and later help her gank the evil entity that now plagued her subconscious.

One brother was never without the other, so it was more surprising when she looked outside and didn't see the taller one. She could see out to the curb and see the Impala was empty. Dean had come alone. She knew things were rough with the rumors that went around after Bobby died. That death effected everyone in the hunting world. In years since the boys were in town she had reconnected with Bobby and wished there was an actual funeral for the now-legend. Dean went off the grid and so did Sam. Together that was impossible.

The world assumed that they were dead and she didn't want to believe it, but the facts screamed at her and she accepted it. Erin did not weep, but she still thought about them from time to time, especially after a night terror.

"Get in the house, before you become polar bear meat!" she yelled. Dean didn't waste time but he was stopped after a few steps into the warm house. Erin didn't mess around despite what the barriers she set up around town and her home. She kept a little bit of iron, silver, salt and holy water right by the door wear she hung her coat. Dean knew the drill and Erin felt better about his presence. "Good to see you, Dean."

Dean just nodded.

Erin walked away and into her kitchen, flipping on lights as she went along, and grabbed a bottle of jack from one of her shelves. She knew that was his drink of choice. That never changed. She had turned into a bit of a wino in the past few years, but still kept her stash stocked up; an old bartending habit. Erin returned to Dean, who was taking off his snow covered boots at the door, with a glass in hand. He scoffed, "You're not even going to ask why I am here and you're going to offer me a drink?"

"Yeah, because it is a level three snow emergency out there and you are not going anywhere. Might as well get comfortable and spill some details."

"Good to see you too," he quipped.

"I am not even going to ask what you were doing out there. I'm more concerned with why you are even in town and where is your brother?"

"No 'Wow, it has been years' conversation?" he asked, taking a sip from his drink.

"Like I said, get comfortable." Erin was kind of excited to see Dean now. Despite their colorful childhood summer while their dad's worked on a pack of werewolves she enjoyed Dean's company. it made her feel like she was young again. The bickering would start, escalate, then Sam would intervene before someone passed out from trying to outdrink the other. No Sam this time, so something was up. There was a lot of catching up to do.

Dean was more than relieved to see that Erin was still in town, but that raised a lot of questions in his mind. She should have been gone to the next town in need to help years ago. What was up with the wine? Why was her house looking like a library now?

He had claimed the recliner towards the far wall and watched the weather channel that Erin had flipped on to. Apparently while Dean should have been paying attention to his driving the whole Midwest was being subjected to a polar vortex. It was going to be nothing but wind, snow, and subzero temperatures. No one was going anywhere for the next two days or so.

"I can't believe you didn't hear anything about that," Erin said. She stood beside him watching the television screen. "Chicago declared a state of emergency for cryin' out loud."

Dean took another drink, "Just been busy."

"Probably was a lot warmer where you were," she chuckled.

Dean didn't even respond. That was a red flag to Erin. She knew Sam was a touchy subject for Dean, but curiosity got the better of her. "So where's Sam?"

He didn't answer at first but she knew that look her gave her. It pretty much read as not-a-good-time or say-it-again-and-you-will-wish-you-were-never-born. Then he answered, "He's fine."

Erin would try again at another time. She wasn't going to give up easily. Austin tried to pull this on her about their father, who wasn't doing well in the last few years. No one just shows up out of the blue after seven years, without their precious brother attached at their hip, unannounced, and not without an explanation.

Dean changed the subject, "So why are you still here?"

Erin gave him her infamous crooked smile, "Hell of a story, dude." And with that she grabbed her bottle of red wine, settled down on her couch, and poured herself a glass.


	3. Secrets

It was no surprise that Erin kept some details from Dean about what she had done in the last seven years. She called the first two years her hot-mess-express and the years following a lot of soul searching before she decided to settle down permanently.

Dean kept some of the intimate details of what went on since they were last in Athens, such as the demon blood, Lucifer in Sam's head, time travel, and Gadreel. He just kept going back to the phrase, "Just business as usual."

Erin shook her head, "You don't expect me to accept that story after seven rumor-filled years, right?"

He shrugged, "Could you?"

"Not a chance. C'mon, there is no way shit can't go down without the Winchesters being attached to said substances."

Dean took a pull at the bottle of jack that Erin had offered to him and she in turn poured the rest of her wine into her glass. "Shortly after we left Sam got killed."

Erin laughed, "Yeah, right. How is that giant still walking around. I know he was there when Bobby died."

Dean didn't say at word, but the silence did the talking.

"Shit, you're not kidding."

He nodded, "Our family has a legacy with demons which you probably figured back when we were kids. Anyways it was part of a master plan and Sammy got picked and in the thick of it he got stabbed in the back."

"How did he come back? Please tell me you didn't consult a witch."

"Nope."

"You didn't."

"Yeah."

Erin did the math. "So you only have three more years left?"

"Not exactly, but that doesn't matter. But I did go to Hell."

"Any how in the world are you here?"

Dean went on, more liked glossed, to tell Erin about how an angel got him out, the apocalypse, Sammy sacrificing himself, how averting the whole damn thing threw off the balance of things, Sammy coming back, a brief telling about how Bobby died, danced around the purgatory subject, and the botched trials. He would keep the details about Gadreel to himself. He skimmed the details. Anymore of it and his manliness would be at stake. This was Erin, not a therapist. Erin would totally judge and without any inhibition.

Erin stared at Dean trying to process what she had heard. Dean told her some deep, dark, nasty stuff. Things she didn't think we possible. Their kind was hunters, not saviors of the world. This was big, and of all people, Sam and Dean did it all. The rumors were true. This was a lot to take in and didn't press Dean for anymore details. She could see Dean was holding back some things, a lot of hurt for one things, and a lot of pain, but he would not break in front of her.

"Alright I'm done talking," he finished. "Make it even and tell me what's been going on with you."

Erin put down her wine glass and gestured for Dean to follow her to her office near the back of the house. She turned on the lights in her office and he got a glimpse of what she had been doing.

It was always known that Erin loved ghosts, specters, poltergeists, spirits in general. Monsters weren't her thing. Creatures she could do without. Demons, well, she would rather call someone else. The office looked more like an office than it did seven years ago. It was actually organized. The dry-erase board wasn't marked with connections to cases but contacts to professionals. The kind with the Doctor at the beginning of their name. There were research to-do lists containing names and books. Books were on shelves, not books were categorized below them, and the desk itself now had a desktop. It looked so professional. "I had been working on this," she said while picking up a thick stack of papers. She handed them to Dean and he leafed through them. Each page was a kind of ghost, a few he had heard of, more than he didn't. There were pages with red notes scribbled around them about how to kill them or send them to the other side. "There is more than I thought out there. There are also more legal ways out there to take care of cases related to them that would make our jobs easier."

"So what are you creating the ultimate journal of ghosts?"

"Even better. Try a book."

Dean eyed her skeptically. "You're writing a book."

She shrugged. "It is going to change things for our kind. It is going to make our jobs a little safer, more efficient, and a little less illegal. You would be surprised at how much we have gotten it wrong and just jump to the salt-and-burn. Hell from what I have found we are lucky we don't get half the mythology wrong."

Dean smiled, "So you spent the last seven years being a ghost whisperer? What got you into this? Let's be real, hunting takes a lot of time, even for you."

She shook her head, "A lot has changed since that night. I changed, but I like to think it is for the better."

/ / /

It was three in the morning when Erin bolted from her bed. It was always around three in the morning when the nightmare that had plagued her since her own possession. It had gotten better. There were nightmares, not night terrors. Sleep was something not to be afraid of and something that alcohol wasn't needed for. It took a long time to get to that point but at least she was there. She sat up in her bed collecting herself before she would lay down again. Ten minutes later she could hear some mumbling from the guest room that was next to hers.

Dean.

After what he had told her that night she shouldn't be surprised, but she remembers a time when this was never an issue. Those summer nights while their dads were out and it was Austin and her mother standing watch not a peep was heard from either. Nothing could wake Dean up. The only thing that could even rouse him was their German Sheppard named Zip and that dog was huge.

She got up and peeked through the door jam. Dean was a restless, but if their talk earlier meant anything Erin was to let Dean do his thing. He could be in Hell or Purgatory right now, fighting for his life, and she learned from several movies that waking someone in the middle of a night terror was a bad idea. She couldn't figure out what he was saying but she could easily make out _Sammy._

It just didn't seem right that Dean wouldn't talk much about his brother. They were all each other had and something was wrong if you found them apart. Erin had to find out why. There had to be a reason why Dean was down on her turf. Erin would dig deeper in the morning.

**Thank you to all those who have followed/favorite/reviewed or whatever. I will update as much as I can but please understand when I can't. I'm only half a semester from graduating college and I have not a clue what I am doing with my life. Hooray for being a twenty-nothing.**


	4. Brother

The next morning it was apparent that no one was leaving the house any time soon. It was six in the morning and already there were about seven inches of snow on the ground with wind drifting everything around the house and Impala. Erin was already up and ready to face a shut-in day. Circadian rhythms were hard to break after she made a permanent settlement in Athens. She already knew the pub was closed for the day, which would grant her some time to catch up on the much-needed domestic duties. Laundry seemed to be the only one these days leaving the clutter for another time. With that, all she could wear was black leggings and an over-sized long sleeve shirt from the pub leftover from the summer's Brew Week. With no one to impress she pulled her long hair into a messy bun and put her glasses on, forgoing contacts. After that, it was coffee, nothing Irish these days. If anything Dean would have to take it black.

She looked around and was a little disgusted with the state of her house. Nothing like an unexpected 'guest' to make you feel guilty about clutter. Empty cups and plates from her laziness, notebooks with her observations from The Ridges, and then shoes and boots laying around everywhere. Quickly she picked up as much as she could before Dean would wake up. By the time it was done it was almost seven. Why isn't he up, she thought. Erin peeked through the door and could see why. She was no stranger to night terrors and knew that they took a toll.

Night terrors were a functioning pain in the ass. You were tired and you wanted to sleep, but when you slept you had them. No one really thought about the physical toll. You get exhausted just from them in your actual sleep so you sleep more to recover from it, but then they come back again. Erin learned that liquor helped until it didn't. The only way was to wake up and chug coffee like it was your job.

She slowly crept into the guest room and nudged Dean awake to which he jumped instead. It was fine, it was what she expected. After all the shit he told her about it made sense. "Mornin'," he resolved.

She took stock of her view. It was obvious that Dean didn't even bother to change last night. Whether he brought clothes with him or were stuck in the Impala didn't matter. Austin kept a few things at her house for when he traveled south for a visit. She went into the closet and tossed him some jeans and a shirt. "Mornin'," Erin replied. "There is coffee if you want some and some fresh clothes."

"Don't worry about it, I'm leavin'."

She scoffed and pulled open the curtains, "Like hell you are. You're staying her until it goes down to a level one weather emergency and even then I would rather you stay here until the roads are better."

"I'll be fine, I can handle this."

She nodded, "Yeah if your car can start after it being twenty below and buried under snow then you can go."

Dean gave in. Baby never let him down except for a handful of times when Mother Nature threw some cold at him. Better to wait. Just the fact that Dean gave in sent Erin into code yellow mode.

She left him alone to start another pot of coffee and turn the radio on for any weather updates, which in Southeast Ohio translates to every school in the area closing. She laughed at it ever since her family moved from Minnesota when she was sixteen. There they would still have school on time, afterschool activities too. Dean emerged from the guest room looking annoyed, "Really?" Erin turned and could see why. The shirt Austin left behind that Dean was wearing was a Fleetwood Mac _Rumors_ shirt.

Erin shrugged. That was her brother's favorite band and favorite album and Dean would have to get over it. He was going to hate what he would be hearing during his stay anyway. She got sucked into the folk revival. She handed Dean a large mug of sober coffee. "No Jameson? Who are you?"

"Someone who found another way to get through the day without substance," she answered.

"But you work in a bar and you were working through some wine last night."

Erin put down her mug and sat up on the counter. She pulled up her right legging to reveal some surgical scars. "That is why I had to cutback. Had a bit of an accident a few years back and it really changed some things."

"No alcohol with medications?" Dean inquired.

"That and Austin got a little worried."

_Six Years Previous_

_Erin was far from alright. On the public front she was just battling depression but it never affected work. For her real job, ever since her possession, everything was affected. It made her question her worth as a hunter, as a professional in ghost management. Alcohol helped with courage and sleep, but when it stopped helping that was when it all started to go downhill. Erin got good at hiding it from her brother and father, both who called and checked in every so often because she wasn't. _

_After a messy case out in the woods she stopped by her car and took a few drinks from her flask, a concoction of cheap whiskey, scotch, and tequila. In a rush of emotion, questioning her effectiveness in that case, she ran into the asylum. She yelled for Maggie who wouldn't come when she called. She could see the other ghosts and yelled at all of them. She ran to the staircase that would lead to Maggie's stain and made it up a few steps. Sober Erin would have been careful to climb the delicate steps, but intoxicated Erin was anything but. The steps gave under her heavy feet and she fell to the floor underneath and into the black._

_When she came to it was daylight. God she was hungover. She could barely remember what had happened that night. Her mouth tasted like a barroom floor. She tried to move but fell shortly when she felt the excruciating all over her body, mainly in her right leg. Erin was in trouble and she had no one. She could call Austin to get her, but he was all the way up in Michigan. She didn't want her big brother to see her like this. _

_She took a glance around and could see that she was in one of the decaying hallways. This was a good and bad thing. Good because no real authorities or university workers would be going through but bad because there was no way for her to get out without being noticed. It was bad either way._

_Erin fished out her cell phone from her pocket to see that the time read three in the afternoon. There would still be some daylight for a few more hours. She didn't have a choice now, unless she wanted to die. No, she wouldn't end up like the rest of the poor souls lost to the asylum. She quickly dialed for Austin._

_/ / /_

_It took him four hours to get to his little sister and by then it was nice and dark. He already had a story for the hospital officials made up for when he rescued her. Austin new exactly where she was and was chilled at the sight of his Erin laying broken and sick in the debris._

_When he picked her up he was even more scared when it didn't even get a reaction from her. She just wasn't there. Carefully he loaded her into his truck and drove to the hospital down the hill and across the river. The story was that she was in the middle of cleaning something up in her house and that she had an accident. When he didn't hear from her in twenty-four hours (lie that they were so close they talked every day) he had to check in._

_For a few days and two surgeries to put her leg back together with pins and the alcohol withdrawal Austin fought with the idea of sending his sister into a recovery program._

"And that was that," Erin finished. "They put my leg together, Austin being Austin got me to clean up a little, and here I am."

While it was good to hear that a hunter managed to work with their inner demons it was hearing the story of how they had to get to that point that made Dean think about giving up the bottle. "At least you're here," he reasoned.

"I wasn't always."

/ / /

_After the detox and the hospital release Austin resolved to staying with his little sister for a week or so to make sure she was going to be fine. The surgeries were successful and it would only take her a year off from hunting as long as she went to her physical therapy. No limp, nothing permanent. The only thing that would stick around would be the scars. While that was good it didn't stop Austin from worrying. He felt stupid for not seeing the signs that his sister had a problem. When he secretly went back to her house to prepare for her release he could see what was really going on. Her office was chaos, her home was wrecked, and everything wreaked of booze. "Jesus H. Christ," he thought. "What the hell happened to you, Erin?"_

_After he got her home it was like walking on egg shells. Erin pretended that nothing was going on for the first three days. Austin played a long until he woke up one night to hear Erin rooting through the cabinets where he had emptied all her liquor. He knew what he had to do to get her really better and was prepared for the fight that would happen in the morning. Denial, then the blame game, then whatever the psyche consultant said afterwards that were reiterated in the pamphlets he gave him while Erin was in recovery. He talked to him because she wouldn't listen. _

_/ / /_

"Austin and I fought a lot, but he stayed when he didn't have to. He got me to sober up, or at least cutback," she joked hinting at the empty wine bottle near the couch. If it wasn't for him I would probably be up in The Ridges with the Maggie.

She spilled more and more as she and Dean were making an elaborate lunch (after a lot of convincing on her part to get Dean to participate). What the hell were they going to do? "I went to Charleston for a month, relapsed here and there before I finally got settled on not touching the hard stuff. Believe me, I was sober for a year before I was back on wine. I couldn't do AA for the life of me, but I started to talk to someone and I learned control."

"Was that when you started the research?" Dean asked.

She nodded, "I had to do something to keep me occupied. Seemed like a good route. There was another hunter in Charleston and we got to talking in private. We exchanged notes and I learned a thing or two. There is so much lore out there and it conflicts so I made it my project to get it all straight. It's been working out pretty well and I think I found my calling."

There was one question burning in the back of Dean's head, "Did Austin figure out what really happened that night?" If so it was a wonder that Austin didn't hunt him or Sam down for getting Erin messed up, even if it was by her choice.

"You know, I think he does but he knows I made a choice. I made a choice while being stubborn and young and without thinking about the consequences. I made those choices Dean and I live with them now."

Choices, Dean thought, he made a few doozies in the last decade. They all revolved around Sam and that he didn't see a problem with. Sam on the other hand didn't see it like that. He couldn't see how Erin was grateful and Sam wasn't for the older sibling to come and save the day even when they were ready to end it all. Erin and Austin fought just like they did. They got over it and learned from it. Dean and Sam did usually, but not now. That was unsettling.

_**I know this was really mushy but it will get better. Dean will get the spotlight but I had to develop over seven years of Erin's life first. Thanks to everyone hanging in there with me.**_


	5. Changed

"So what finally did bring you down to the hunter's cure-all?" Dean asked while making a grab for Erin's bottle of Jameson that she had forgotten about. It was the bottle that hid the Jack. She only kept that around for Austin when he visited.

She swiped it from him with ease promptly putting it back in the cupboard, "Can't say that after that night I wasn't a little screwed up."

"Then I don't get it. Why keep all that around, keep working in a bar, and turn into a wino?"

Erin half-smiled while thinking about the right answer for this loaded question. The traditional route would be to dry up and stay away from the source of the vice. However, Erin loved her job at the pub. The people who worked there and the patrons were her first friends that weren't involved in the hunting world. They were rare and she wanted to keep them around. "I needed to learn control. Maybe I should dry up but I love the pub. Besides, red wine every once in a while doesn't hurt. It's good for your heart."

She pointed up the cupboard, "I only keep that around as a reminder of the promise I made to Austin."

"_If I see that there is any change in that bottle, I will find you and drag your ass back to Michigan with me and then send you to dad."_

"I see you're still the sober," she said sarcastically.

"Yeah, well." He had done fairly well after he and Sam discovered the bunker. He didn't feel the need for a drink then. Perhaps it was the fact that they had something to come back to at the end of the day, even if a hunt turned to shit. There was still home.

Erin needed to learn control. She had a home. She had everything she could ever want except someone to talk to. Anyone else would have thought she was nuts with the exception of a handful. Erin was afraid of Austin judging her. Dean was definitely an improvement.

"So we are snowed in. What does someone do to pass the time?" Dean asked.

Well, she had him here. Might as well make him useful.

/ / /

"It's filed under 'I'. It is the thicker folder with old book pages in it."

Dean did as he was told in finding and linking terms and notes up for Erin. She had a system and it was tight. Bobby's was controlled chaos, but Erin made it a science. For this subchapter of her book, _Signs and Side effects, _she put together not only detailed signs specific to the type of haunting or ghost, but had a biological rational for it all as well. She was going to need these old book pages. She got them from Bobby's storage unit while the sheriff was there clearing things out.

Dean leafed through the pages. They were all in Japanese. "Since when did you learn how to read Japanese?"

Erin took the folder from him, "Since when were you able to tell the difference?" Busty Asian Beauties, Dean? Still reading that stuff? You've been glancing through all those pictures since you were a teenager. Grow up. "You forget that I live in a college town. All it takes is finding the right International studies student." She pulled out the translation notes from behind them, all paperclipped together.

"What's it all about then?"

"Ghost sickness."

Dean rolled his eyes. He knew this song and dance. "Yeah, being scared to death. That's loads of fun." Cut the sarcasm Dean.

"Well you made it so fill in some blanks here. What was it that had you connected with the other victims?"

"I guess we were all bully types. Anyway we ganked that ghost. Case closed."

"Okay, how did Sam fare?"

"What do you mean? He didn't get sick. He was fine."

"Exactly. So he had an immunity, but there is nothing in here about being immune. You catch it you're screwed. No one really gets out alive on this one."

"Sam wasn't a dick then." Then?

"That bitch face of his begs the differ."

That year Dean got back from Hell he learned a lot of things about his little brother. He learned about a lot of things that he was doing that he didn't care to share at the moment. Ruby, not that bitch. Realizing that angels were indeed real and were basically shady politicians wasn't something he thought she would buy without a lot of explaining. "Demon blood," he muttered.

Erin chuckled, "Uh huh, okay."

Dean wasn't laughing along.

"Oh, you're serious?" Erin quickly typed that note down into her book.

"Woah, woah, you're really going to put that down."

"The world needs to know."

"No they don't. You don't know what Sam went through to get that shit out of his system and now you're going to write it down like it's the chicken pox shot?" Dean sat back in her chair, surrounded by stacks of books that she had post-its sticking out of. "No one is going to go through that. We made sure of it."

Erin stopped typing. She wasn't going to press further with this chapter. "Did this have anything to do with the apocalypse?"

Dean nodded. They were done working for the day.

/ / /

The storm outside only picked up some more and if one could put their hand against the wall they would feel the wind blowing on the house. Dean and Erin didn't bother to think about it. They were bored. Erin reached her daily research and writing quota and there were no phone calls to be made to other hunters seeking advice or comparing notes. Dean was just bored. She only saw one way to fix this. Baking. That was something Dean didn't mind. It was tolerating Erin's shuffle of what she called alt-folk.

She was surprised that Dean didn't object and was actually schooling her in the kitchen. "Jeez, look at you. Dean Winchester, domesticated. I feel like you should be making me a martini after a long day at the office," she teased.

"Only because you burned everything when we were kids."

"I'm a hunter, I don't have time for _womanly duties_."

"You read directions. You think with all the time you spent around books you would pick up a cook book and learn something."

"Says the guy who would eat burgers and crappy diner food for the rest of his life."

"A home cooked meal would bring a guy to you."

"Pish posh, I don't need a man. I do awesome by myself pretty well thank you."

"You keep telling yourself that."

"But seriously, I buy these mixes and whatnot thinking I will have time to bake and take some place, but baking for yourself just seems sad. I'm just few cats away from being pathetic."

"Too late."

Erin pinched some flour and flicked it into his face. "Glad to see you still act like you're a teenager."

They both admitted that it was nice t see that despite the shit that happened to both of them over the years that they still manage to stay as they were at heart. Erin remembered a time over the summer, probably sometime between him melting her Saint Cecilia medallion and messing with his cassette tapes, her mother scolding them both and telling them the only reason why they weren't getting along was because they were both the same person. Naturally they both denied that. Erin liked to hang out and put down at least shallow roots. Dean was all about the next move. They were both ungodly stubborn and never ones to back down from a fight. They would both never admit they were scared of anything, but they had their fears. Hers was not being a better hunter. His was Sammy.

"You haven't changed either. You're still a tiny little shit who couldn't pick her fights wisely."

"You fought Lucifer. Didn't cross your mind that you were a bit too big for your britches on that one?"

No, I had Sammy. I lost Sammy. I lost a lot of people since.

"Anyways, how about hurrying it up with this stuff. I wanna hear more about your years than what you gave me last night?"

Dean shrugged, "I would rather not."

Erin wasn't going to buy it. "Okay, then at least tell me where Sam really is? I was kind of hoping he was behind you when you showed up."

Dean sighed, "We're not working together at the moment."

"Must've been something serious to get you two apart."

"You have no idea."

/ / /

Setting up a residence that didn't involve skeevy motels had its perks. Erin had full-on abused Netflix. This thing was something Dean would have to get Charlie to hack for them if she ever came back from Oz. "I'm serious, you haven't lived until you have seen this show," she would say over and over again trying to convince Dean to start watching a series with her.

Truth was that he was careful about what he picked for entertainment. Getting back from Purgatory changed him and he scared himself with what he saw and felt with certain triggers. Sam suggested PTSD but Dean wouldn't have any of it. That wasn't him. He was stronger than that.

"_Breaking Bad_?" Erin asked, looking hopeful.

"I don't think this storm is long enough for that kind of investment."

"Well I don't feel like putting up with you and a Clint Eastwood movie and you are in my house soo…"

"Fine, I give up. Just pick something already."

Erin smiled and scrolled through the que for _The Hunger Games_.

Dean rolled his eyes at the selection, "Really now?"

Erin flopped down on the other end of the couch. "Chyeah. They're good books and the movie isn't all that bad."

Dean didn't know much about it other than it had that chick who fell at the Oscars a couple months back and Thor's little brother. He would just have to tolerate it a little bit until Erin picked something better afterwards.

Erin made a point to light a few candles around the house. "Don't get any ideas," she quipped. "It's just in case we lose power. I saw the neighbor's go dark."

"Oh sure."

"Dean, you are a good looking guy, but I'm not your average bar room bimbo. You have to go to The Crystal for action and I'm just too classy for that place."


	6. Grips

The storm continued, but they didn't notice. Erin had previously gotten into the fandom while she was in rehab. Another patient breezed through the books forgotten them when he checked out. Erin picked them up soon after. She dragged a friend from the pub to the midnight premiere.

Dean figured from her excitement that she had probably seen it a million times and knew better than to ask questions. Don't ask a fangirl questions while she is in her element.

It was pretty quiet otherwise with the exception of the movie, which Dean had to admit was decent for the first half. He didn't once make fun of Effy or The Capital, which Erin thought was curtious. She could get damn right defensive about her favorite things. Back then it was Jean Luc Picard. Imagine how each of their conversations went when the opposing side had a hard on for Kirk.

Everything that night was going just fine. Erin lit up a few more candles and surfaced a few flashlights from the trunk in her office when she noticed the lights went out from her other neighbor. With any luck they would be next on the grid.

By then The Games began. "Prepare for your feels to be wrecked for the next hour," she quipped. Erin was too focused from then on out on the movie to noticed what Dean was like.

All it took these days was being near the woods in the fight for your life. On the job he knew he had back up and there was no reason to turn on the fight-or-flight switch in his brain. Purgatory was a different story. Purgatory had their alliances and it had the all out war for survival. The Games brought back memories for sure. While he acted like what Sam suggested didn't matter, he made a point to stay away from any triggers. It took him weeks to get a hold of reality and that he was safe and thankfully that was all it took before Sammy came back to the cabin. After that it took a little more.

But he was there. Dean was there just as Katniss was. In his mind he was fighting for his life again. He wasn't in Erin's house anymore. He was looking and listening for any sign of what would need to be killed next.

/ / /

Erin had seen the movies and read the books more than she cared to admit. She knew it line by line. It took years and finally someone to talk to without thinking she was insane but she had her firm grip on reality to help keep the supernatural world and her human-ignorance world.

It got to the part Katniss climbed farther up the tree to the nest risking her own life to get rid of her opponents on the ground, and that was when Erin noticed a change in Dean.

He looked like he was ready to kill. She had seen this when she tagged along on a black dog hunt with her father years ago. She had gotten in the way by an inch while he was walking to set a trap it he snapped at her. Their mother caught wind of wind of what happened when she saw her daughter's wrists bruised. No more creature feature hunts from then on out.

Erin got up from her couch and walked away slowly. She was afraid to touch Dean and bring him back and she was afraid of what turning the movie off would do. She learned a thing or two from her father and the rare episodes from Austin. He would say that she was blessed with night terrors instead. And so she moved away and started to move the surrounding candles farther away from Dean. If he was going to flip out she wasn't going to let him burn down with the house. No need to put his mind back in Hell. While doing that she was mentally kicking herself for not realizing what she had done. She should have known better than to watch a movie that brought out the hunter instincts in him. He didn't talk much about Purgatory but she should have gotten the hints about what it was like.

Then the power went out. The only light in the house were the candles, which wasn't much, but she could see that Dean was standing now. He was still like the dead. She stayed still as well. For a minute all you could hear was the wind outside. She was afraid to move. Dean was in hunting mode and all it took was a twig snapping in the distance to set him off for the chase. Hunt or be hunted. Erin's plan was to carefully be out of his range if he were to snap.

She took a step backwards and felt the wood floor squeak under her toes. Fuck. Dean snapped his head in her direction and she knew she was screwed. Dean was fast heading in her direction but she was a little faster. If you're going to go down, go down where you have advantage. That was what she was taught. Erin's house was small enough that she was in the kitchen in two steps. Dean had her down by the lower cabinets between the fridge and the kitchen sink where she kept the liquor. "Dean!" she cried hoping it would snap him back. His eyes were stone cold while he had a tight grip on her. He didn't say a word. Physically Erin was at a disadvantage being small and light. Dean her pinned at her thighs with his own weight, one hand pressing on her neck, and the other hand she could see had a blade of some kind. "Where is the angel?" he growled.

Normally this is where Erin would ask a question but she was more concerned with getting Dean off of her. She didn't have a weapon on hand or a spell to recant. The only thing within reach was the liquor bottles. Erin reached but when she did Dean pressed harder, cutting off her air. Darkness was starting to frame her vision. If she didn't act now she was going to become another statistic and another bullet to Dean's sanity. She pushed against him and reached for the closest bottle. She tipped the bottle over with her finger tips and let it roll out of the door closer to her. She had an advantage now. She gripped the bottle by the neck and with the amount of fight she had left slammed it to the side of Dean's head.

She could feel his grip loosen and his drop on top of her. Quickly she pushed him off of her and he rolled off to her side, away from the glass shards and liquid on the floor. She coughed and wheezed bringing air back into her lungs. Carefully, fearful that he might jump back up again, she placed two fingers on his neck to verify that she didn't kill her friend, and she sighed with relief. "God damn, Dean."

**Look at me on a roll. I'm just going to keep going as much as I can while I am on spring break. It might not be much between work, a little bit of studying, and dealing with the aftermath of a car accident (car insurance and AAA reimbursement is a pain in the ass), but it is something for you guys. Drop a review. It is going to get interesting.**


	7. Session

When Dean came to it was daylight. He was more or less aware that he was laying on the floor but whoever left him there was courteous enough to give him a pillow and several blankets. However he was more or less aware of the pounding in his head and the bandages he felt along his hairline. He slowly sat up and took stock of his surroundings. Erin was asleep on the couch next to him, covered up to her eyeballs in blankets as well. He obviously didn't remember a damn thing from last night before they had made supper, but he didn't feel like he was hungover. He nudged Erin awake, but she rolled away. "Nooo. Don't wanna," she mumbled.

"Erin, wake up."

She rolled back to face him. "Oh good, you're not dead," she groaned.

"No, but I lost a few hours so fill me in. Why the hell and I on the floor?"

Erin sat up and let the blankets fall revealing the tell-tale bruises on her neck. "We were watching a movie, the power went out, and you had an episode."

Dean saw the bruises. What he felt at that moment was lower than Hell. Whatever he did during that episode he felt guilty beyond words. It wasn't like the last time where the guy had it coming because it was already arrested and held for questioning. This was Erin. This was his friend who was at the wrong place at the wrong time. "What did I do?"

"The power went out and you just, I don't know, you got a little scary for me." She played it off like it was just another long day at the office. "I knew that you needed space and for my own safety I tried to stay as far away from you as possible. Look what good that did." She looked over to the kitchen where the drama went down. She didn't bother to clean up the glass or liquor on the floor that night. It was too dark and she had other priorities, like trying to move Dean, which required herculean strength on her part. "Dammit," she tossed off the covers, walked to the kitchen, and grabbed a broom from the closet.

Dean got up and followed, "Let me take care of this."

Erin didn't object, "Damn straight you will, your fault anyway." Dean stopped at those words. Erin realized what she had said wasn't exactly good etiquette. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean it to come out like but, ya know."

He nodded and clean up the mess. Dean looked closely at the shards of green glass and picked up the soaked label off the floor. It was the Jameson bottle. Erin saw what he was doing and sighed, "Well the universe has a funny way of telling you things, huh?"

"Austin will understand right?"

She nodded. "Yeah, but we won't tell him about all this." She pointed at the bruises. "Looks like it's going to be turtlenecks for a while."

If there was one thing Dean hated more than anything it was being reminded of the things he fucked up. "I said I was sorry."

Erin already knew where this conversation was going. She had a million times with Austin while sobering up. Time to cut to the chase. "I don't care if you're sorry. What's done it done, but all I ask is that you talk to somebody."

Well this was a change of pace. "What?"

"I won't pry about Sam or this angel you asked about last night, but before you leave, you will talk to someone. You have PTSD, and you need help. After what you vaguely told me in the last two days you need someone a little more equipped than me and Jack. It's not healthy and it will get worse."

How dare she say those things. She didn't know the first thing about Hell, about Purgatory, the apocalypse, about Sammy. She had no right to tell him he was a head case. "You don't know what you are dealing with."

"Oh I do, Dean. And that is why I am telling you to talk to someone."

"Unbelievable."

"Listen, we all have our issues and believe me you have too many. I know you changed a lot in seven years but Dean, just talk to this guy for one day. It will make me feel better for when you do leave. Do it for a friend. I know family is more important but from I can read and know, you don't have much of either or anyone available. So take it. Let me help you."

Dean wanted to agree, but he felt too far gone to open up to anyone, especially a complete stranger.

"I don't even care about what happened last night, but just listen to me."

Dean crossed his arms in defense. "Even if you knew someone who would listen me and not think I'm some kind of psychopath or call the cops?"

Erin grabbed her phone from the top of her microwave. "I know a guy. He's a retired shrink, and he's helped me some on my book and with research on a spirit here and there up at The Ridges. I trust him, and I have told him loads of stuff. He was at the AA meeting and helped me when they couldn't. He won't think you're crazy. He knows the difference."

"This guy have a name?"

Erin started dialing, "Doctor Paul Harpring."

/ / /

Doctor Paul Harpring enjoyed retirement, but there were a few people he would see that he knew wouldn't need medical treatment that he would still see. He just liked to listen. Paul had his regular old lady brigade when that inner circle was feuding or needed to vent some rough drafts of gossip, and he had his one or two former patients drop by once in a blue moon as a way of saying thanks. He wasn't practicing, but he made a note to his people that he was always there. Having been dry for thirty years he made an appearance or two every month to the weekly AA meeting. That was where he met Erin. He had seen her type before in his office and go through the motions at the meetings but he could see that Erin had done and seen things in her twenty something years. It wasn't abuse, it wasn't some kind of repeated childhood trauma, but it was clearly something else.

For the next five years he would see her once a week, listen to her stories which he would later find out to be true, actually serve as a consultant to her paranormal theories, and just be someone who would listen when the night terrors came back.

He wasn't shocked when he picked up his phone this winter's day and heard her voice. "Hello?"

"Hey Paul, it's Erin. Do you have any time open today?" she asked.

"For you I can make time, you know that."

"Actually it isn't for me, I'm not doing too bad, in fact I'm pretty good. I was hoping you could see a friend of mine. I know you're retired but he isn't looking for treatment, but he-"

"Needs someone to believe he isn't crazy?" he interrupted.

"Yeah, but really."

He sighed, "Yeah, bring your friend in. Just be careful out there."

/ / /

It was a slow drive across down and up into a hill overlooking the university. It was pretty which made it an idea and serene location to live in Paul's line of work. It wasn't negative degree of anything now and Erin and Dean dug out her driveway. They piled in her little Jetta, leaving the Impala behind, and made the trip with caution. Erin pulled up to his garage and got out first. Dean sat back a little longer before she came back and knocked on the window, "He's retired, he ain't getting any younger." With reluctance he got out of her car and followed her to the front door. She entered without knocking which normally Dean wouldn't do, but he took it as a sign that it was a safe and trustworthy person.

He followed her around until they reached the kitchen. There stood the doctor. Old, grey, and nice mixture of Bobby and a young Santa Claus, but thinner and without the circle glasses. "So this must be your friend?" he asked.

Erin nodded, "Paul this is Dean, Dean, Paul."

This guy was a man's man and they both shook hands. "Well I'm not going to lie to you Dean," he continued, "We can skip the formalities, but it is safe here. Erin has told me a little about you and that little bit was either entails paranoia or teenage pranks."

Well at least the guy had a sense of humor. "And Erin, I have a few things for you on the circle graves that can at least give us an idea of one of the folks buried there?"

Erin smiled, "How did you manage that?"

"Pulled a few strings with a groundskeeper. Everything is down stairs." And with that she left the room. He gestured Dean to follow him to his living room. The place had one single window that faced out into some deep woods, right below the window it dropped off into the side of the hill. It was pretty with all the snow but Dean wasn't interested in that. He wanted to get his hour over with. "Now Dean, I do know you are just as stubborn as she is so I won't have my time wasted with you just sitting there for an hour without a word. She wouldn't be wearing that turtleneck unless she was hiding something."

Dean sat down opposite of Paul, tall and rigid, ready to leave when he had to, "No offense but I'm not sure if you're qualified to deal with my kind of crazy."

"I practiced for thirty years, worked a little in the prison, and actually interned during the later years of the asylum. I can tell you're not crazy just as Erin isn't."

"It's easier to believe in ghosts than it is what I have seen."

"Demons are also easy to believe. I was raised Catholic and when The Vatican trains and sanctions exorcisms I think that is enough reason to believe that that kind of evil exists."

"So how do you believe now?"

Paul shrugged, "I haven't been to mass in over forty years. I left during my undergrad after seeing too many inconsistencies and just realizing that it isn't about God anymore. We have choices and with the signs pointing to the lack of Divine Intervention and science being the only consistent thing is my life of course I became a skeptic."

Dean nodded, "I guess you just have a fancier book-learning look at it all than I do."

"Revelations is just God sitting back while his angels with Stockholm Syndrome battle it out with their fallen brother. They preach forgiveness and understanding despite whether it is wanted or not, but we could say God is a hypocrite and had too much pride to admit he was wrong."

"Can't argue with that."

Paul looked at Dean hard for a minute trying to get a read on him. "Something tells me you know and seen things that could affirm everything I just said, so I'm curious. What do you know?"

"Hell and Hell exists, angels are dicks in suits, purgatory is like a some wilderness survival game that you don't get to come back after game-over, and everything supernatural is out of wack to the point where good people died."

"Let me guess, you think it is your fault."

"I broke the first seal in Hell."

Paul was a little skeptical now, but he had seen Dean's disposition in the military veterans. You can't make this up. "It is only your fault if it was your intention."

Dean didn't say a word to counter that. He didn't like to talk about Hell. He couldn't forget about it, but he had gotten better at not thinking about it. Everything got replaced by Purgatory now.

"I think I figured that the End of Days had started and were promptly stopped by you and I assume you had a partner," Paul continued. "You have expressed that you have experienced all these things that I can understand that you don't want to relive. We don't have to talk about those places specifically because what was done was done. It is about what you did after and in between is what mattered, unless you want to speak."

Dean scoffed, "You treat Erin like this?"

Paul shrugged, "She's a little more of a talker than you, but yes, she keeps the details of her investigations to herself. She goes for more of sorting the aftermath out. Touchy feely if you may."

**I will spare you the H/C dialogue, unless you want it (leave a review if you do).**


	8. Little Talks

"You're not gonna ask me how it all went?" Dean asked.

Erin shook her head and smiled, "He may be retired but he won't breath a word."

The county broke from the level two snow emergency to a level one and Erin decided it was high time she made a trip to the office supply store. More paper, more ink, and an extra external hard drive for her computer were on her mental list especially since Dean traded notes and the few breaks that Paul provided. She wasn't going to hesitate typing all that up.

She did notice something was different about Dean and the way he carried himself after his talk with Paul. He wasn't tightjawed and rigid as he was when he showed up on her porch. Something about that talk made him appear more resolved and relaxed. Was she like this after rehab?

They walked around the mostly empty store. The parking lot down the street where the grocery store was was packed. Guess where the town went? Usually a trip like this Erin would wrap up in a few minutes but she didn't see the rush. The pub was still closed and there was no sense in a rush. Office supplies weren't going anywhere. Erin pushed the cart and Dean followed. "You at least look a little better," she mentioned.

Dean chuckled, "If I had known talking would be a cure-all for a head injury I would have half the trips to your local ER cut in half."

"Is Dean Winchester saying that chick-flick moments count as medical practice."

"Shut up."

Erin could sense that Dean wasn't going to stick around for long. She needed to ask now or just deal with not-knowing and probably never seeing a Winchester ever again. "So you never told me why you are brotherless, especially if you imply that he is alive and well."

Dean's demeanor changed, "He just wanted space, I guess."

Erin could tell he was hiding something. "I don't believe that."

"What do you want me to say? It's Sam, he gets in his moods and you steer clear."

"'Steer clear' isn't something you do. C'mon I know you better than to let your little brother out of your sight even if he is an adult."

"You're right, he is an adult. According to him I need to realize that."

"So you guys had a falling out. This one is just lasting a little longer than the past ones, right?"

"If you wanna roll with that, then yeah."

"Seriously you two have a strange relationship."

"He's my brother."

Erin halted and faced Dean, "Look, I may not be nearly as fucked up as your and Sam, but I get it. The only difference is that I am on the younger child end of the spectrum. Believe it or not you can survive without the other."

"Erin, after everything we have been-"

"No, just hear me out. Jeez Austin and I have our issues. Lots of issues, and we sure as hell weren't raised like you guys. I have been watching my family dwindle. This is the life. Mom died, Dad hasn't been doing very well, Austin is on his own, and then I'm here by myself. I know you lost Bobby and what that did to the both of you. I can't imagine what it would have been like for you to lose Sam, but listen. He is way stronger than you think. You are the weak guy and you need to be stronger than that for him. If he wants to strike out on his own, then move on. If he can do it you can too."

"Are you serious?" He asked sarcastically.

"Yeah. Look I don't think he had the easiest time dealing with your multiple deaths and that year you were off in limbo, but he did it."  
"Erin, I don't have anyone."

She wanted to call bullshit and she did. "Horse shit!" she snapped, louder than she thought judging from the acoustics of the store. She hushed down after that. "This is why people move on. You don't have to fill any void, but you can try to heal it or manage it. I don't have anyone I can talk to, but I got Paul and the pub. I found my own way and moved past my shitty issues. You have Garth, you have the job that requires meeting people, you have that little tech geek you mentioned that judging from the way you talk about her she like a little sister. Also, you have me and my family. You need to get that through your stubborn head. We are not Sammy, but we can help and we are here. Dammit we care. If I didn't care I would have kicked you out after that episode. Now I'm wearing turtlenecks. I hate turtlenecks! I'm wearing this hideous thing for you!"

Dean listened but he wasn't really registering everything she was saying. It was true that he had others to fall back on, but they weren't Sammy. Gun to their heads he would think about doing something for them. Gun to Sam's head he wouldn't hesitate. With Sam it was just different.

/ / /

Erin went straight into her office with her day's bounty, eager to start writing but still pissed at Dean. Dean was a good guy but sometimes he could be a stubborn ass, to blind to see that he had others there for him and he didn't have to do anything on his own. Typing seemed to calm her down. Once she started she wouldn't stop and would turn the world off for a few hours. This was how she got three binders full of final copy pages for the book done in recent years. Erin didn't even notice the darkness outside. She didn't even notice how quiet the rest of the house was. It was like Dean was never there.

The purr of the Impala outside snapped her out of her focus and she peered outside her window to see the car lit up and Dean loading the trunk. She threw on her coat and shoes and ran out the door trying to catch him. She had yet to shovel her walk and pranced through the snow. "You, wait right there!"

Dean stopped and closed the trunk. "Came to see me off to war, Sweetheart?" he was sarcastic, per the usual.

"After all that you just plan to pick up and leave. Sorry I'm not just a whatser name you can shack up with and leave without a goodbye."

"I got a call from a hospital. Garth is there."

"Garth can handle himself."

"Not on a job."

"Oh."

"Yeah, so I am going to check it out because he went MIA a couple months back. I just gotta check it out."

"Well you could have just told me."

"You know me, Erin."

"Not entirely. People change after seven years."

That was true. "Then keep being you."

Erin nodded, "Then you keep on improving you."

They stood awkwardly in the snow, not sure what the etiquette for this kind of conversation was. Erin being herself opened her arms. Dean just glanced, "What, is it that time of the month? Need to hug everything out."

The old Dean was still in there. "You're an ass. Quit killing the moment."

Dean laughed and returned the gesture. It was short and sweet, but Erin knew somehow deep down this could be the last time she would see him. As much as Dean made her life hell when they were kids he would hold a special place in her heart. It wasn't romantic, not even in the least bit, but if he showed up on her porch again she wouldn't think twice to let him past the threshold. He released, hopped into his car, and rolled down the window. "Can I count on you to pick up your phone if I got a spirit that makes everything complicated?" he asked sarcastically.

"You just have to make a call. Wouldn't hurt just to drop a line more than once a decade."

Dean rolled up his window and nodded Erin's way. He pulled the car away from the curb and began the long trip west to Garth with a slightly different perspective. Erin ran back into her house, snow in her shoes be damned. Her friend's stay was brief, not long enough to change her outlook, but the broken bottle did change something.

Mortality was something hunters were constantly away of. Her father wasn't going to last forever and Austin was more active than she was. Both could die any day. Paul wasn't a young guy and eventually she would have to move on from Athens and leave the pub. She at least had Dean. She had someone. Dean wouldn't admit it but he would have someone if he were to let Sam go. That was highly unlikely, but it never hurt knowing.

_**Of course this isn't beta-ed, but I have been working on term paper number one and I am fried. I figured I could squeak this in for you guys. I have been toying with the idea of coming back with Erin and Austin (yeah, we could get more than one chapter with him in it!) but I need to work on other things first. Graduating is number one, sending articles into Cracked for publishing, trying to get other non-work things published, spend some time on my own piece of original fiction, and search for that post-grad job. I'm trying to avoid grad school as much as I can so I am going to sacrifice my sanity instead. This is what you get when you attain a BA in English yet spend most of your college career in marching band.**_


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